The Phantom of the Crimson Cloak - 3 Inches Of Blood

Out of the fog comes a huddled shape

Cloaked head to toe in crimson flowing robes

It hunts, kills, eats

Unseen in sickening mists of night, some evils lurking in the gloom

Voracious hunting appetite and piercing demon eyes

A mandrake sets upon its prey, slashing mangled claws

Soulstealer strangling terror, in crimson cloak it kills

Mortals who cross the path

The phantom hunts and kills

With a swift ferocity

The demons carcass strikes

Death is his way, dare not to cross his path

The phantom of the crimson cloak stalks the dark and silent night

A killer waiting for the strike, in silence you will stand in fright

Captured by its frozen stare, your body drained of essence

Predator of the pure in heart, sending all their souls to hell

There is no escape from here, phantom horror attack

He must feed

On innocent human flesh

To hold the madness at bay

That torments his eternal march

Death is his way, dare not cross his path

The phantom of the crimson cloak stalks the dark and silent night

An ancient corpse

He’s trod this worn path

Many forlorn years

Aeons yet to come

Death is his way, dare not cross his path

The phantom of the crimson stalks the dark and silent night